Support Networks
by Chloe Veverka
Summary: How the Golden Trio and several other Gryffindor favorites try to spend a Saturday afternoon cooped in the library. Ron and Harry are not pleased. Restlessness ensues. No spoilers. Hints at Hr/R and HP/GW


A/N: Something fun I wrote a year ago, though I edited it recently because I had never finished it. I guess it has to happen sometime during book five before the twins book it (though I wasn't writing around any particular events).

Anyways, I always wondered what a normal study session might look like in the Hogwarts library (and by "normal" I mean one in which the kids aren't in some dangerous peril, aside from failing a class). Here's where that thought took me.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything affiliated with the Harry Potter franchise.

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On a most unpleasant rainy day, the Gryffindor common room had almost reached its maximum capacity. The dreary weather had cast its dismal spell on the student body as a whole, as though thundering "Papers! Homework! Do it!" from the sky. Without the temptation to wander the grounds, most students had taken to productivity; though that word alone meant different things to different individuals.

For Hermione, Harry, and Ron, however, productivity was equal in proportion to excruciating boredom. Or, at least, that's how the boys saw their plight. After visiting the library, various classrooms, and even the mess hall, the trio had returned to the packed library and captured hold of a recently vacated table. Situated next to a window, and within a long row of other occupied tables, the trio chose their positions. Ron and Harry collapsed across from one another as Hermione slid into the chair directly in front of the window. Behind her mane, a torrential storm blazed in lulling droplets.

"Ready?" Hermione asked her companions. The boys sluggishly nodded.

"All right, gentlemen. This is for your own good. I'd say that after a good five solid hours, you two should have some sort of progress on those scrolls. I want: limited tapping, Harry; limited shuffling Ron; and limited digressions. We shall commence as soon as you ready your work areas." As Hermione searched her bag, Ron stared at Harry and proceeded to mock a choking motion on himself. Harry rolled his eyes but grinned. Hermione could make a wonderfully imitating librarian one day, if she so chose to pursue such a career. That or a drill sergeant. Or a professional torturer.

Work stations assembled, the trio began their Saturday afternoon among the chorus of sighs that entertained the library's walls. Hermione quietly read a book for her own pleasure, having already accomplished her homework for the next week. Judging from the jumble of complex words arranged on the cover, which Harry stared at for a good solid minute, he could only surmise that the book had something to do with "a", "the", and "in".

Several minutes later, Harry switched between gripping his messy hair, rubbing his scar, and tapping his quill on the table. Ron just looked maddeningly confused and frustrated, stealing glances at Hermione's hair. It was the only part of her head that could be visible from his perspective, seeing that her enormous book hid everything else.

"Say, Hermione…"

"Before one more word utters from your mouth, Ron, no. I will not be helping you this time."

"But…" he started.

"Ron, I've helped you with the past three consecutive essays within the past two weeks. When are you finally going to fend for yourself, academically?" Hermione spoke while calmly turning a page of her book.

"When I finally understand one of these bloody topics. I mean, thirteen and a half bloody scrolls on the history of bloody pointless potions that cause your skin to bloody change colors that do not include the colors indigo or burnt sienna? How cruel can the man be? We just wrote something equally stupid like this days ago."

"Language, Ronald." She flipped a page.

"And what the bloody Hell is 'burnt sienna'?"

"It's a mixture of orange and brown," said Harry, crossing out a word on his parchment.

"Correct," replied Hermione.

"Wonderful. Maybe we should be in art class, for all that git cares," Ron mumbled.

"Language, Ron," Harry and Hermione spoke, tapping his quill and flipping her page respectively.

Harry crossed out another series of words from his scroll. "Say, Hermione, how do you spell 'exacerbate'?"

"There's a dictionary in Aisle 2 Row 4, Harry."

Harry looked off in what he could only assume would be the direction of a dictionary. The rows of bookcases gave him an awkward, inverted sense of vertigo as the shelves seemed to multiply ferociously. Everything began to spin.

"Please, Hermione?"

She sighed. "E-x-a-c-e-r-b-a-t-e."

"Say now. How come you'll answer Harry but not me?" Ron complained.

Hermione peered over the top of her book, her eyebrows furrowed. "He asked me a question related to spelling. You, on the other hand, want me to write your paper for you. Thirteen and a half scrolls, none of which you've even managed to write. There's quite a difference there." Her eyebrows and eyes vanished behind the book's cover.

"Isn't fair at all. I have written my name, after all," Ron challenged.

Harry peered over at his mate's scroll. "How can anyone read that? I think it's possibly worse than my handwriting." Ron looked at Harry's scroll, which had at least half of a page filled.

"And that is a horrible claim to have," Hermione spoke.

A large stack of mobile books approached their table.

"Hullo Harry… Ron… Hermione," the stack spoke with a gasping, friendly tone.

Without looking up, the trio spoke, "Hello, Neville."

"Mind if I rest these here?" the stack continued.

Hermione waved a hand from behind her book. "Go right ahead."

"Thanks!" With an unsteady thump, Neville unloaded his heavy books onto the table. The move jarred Harry and Ron out of their stupors.

"'Nother long scroll on plants, Neville?" Harry asked. Neville nodded, leaning against the table ledge.

"Almost done. Ten more scrolls to go."

"Out of how many?" Ron asked.

"Let's see…um… twenty?"

Harry and Ron stared at Neville blankly. "Twenty?" they repeated.

"Yeah, though it isn't that bad. Halfway done, after all."

Hermione's face made a brief appearance. "And one may applaud you for not waiting until the absolute last moment to get your work done, Neville. Very good of you." She glared at her compatriots, then disappeared behind her book again.

"Um, thanks Hermione. Anyways, I'll be right back. Need to track down another book. Think it's somewhere up high," Neville mostly mumbled to himself, walking off.

"Guess we can't complain too much, eh?" Harry said to Ron.

"Blimey, twenty scrolls? Don't envy the bloke at all," Ron said, returning to his scantily clad scroll, which only wore his name. Ron stared at the aged tan of the paper, looking deeply into its blankness, as though to summon words onto the page. As he stared harder, his face grew closer to the scroll, until his nose was touching it. Finally, he smacked his head onto the table. "Hermione…"

"Diction, Ronald. I can't very well hear you when you're talking into the table." She flipped a page.

He turned his face, resting his cheek on the scroll. "Hermione, please give me a little hand with this."

"No."

"How about a finger?

"No, Ron."

As Ron continued to prod at Hermione, Harry's gaze drifted to the window above her head. The rain continued to fall in heavy curtains. He wondered what Hagrid was doing in his hut. He wondered if he had any good stories that he could tell them over a cup of tea. He wondered if the creatures in the Forbidden Forest loved it when it rained or if they hated it. On second thought, the spiders probably really hated the water, seeing that they couldn't swim…

"Harry, stop day dreaming and get back to work." Hermione had interrupted Ron's pleas to pull Harry's mind back to the present, all without her looking up from her book. "Ron, write down an introduction and an argumentative claim. Once you're done, I'll look it over and tell you how to improve from there. Fair enough?"

Unbeknownst to her eyes, Ron smiled brightly, the first sign of hope crossing his face since he had first heard of the plot to do work all day. "Bless you, Ma'am, bless you."

Hermione simply flipped the page.

"Oi', Ron, Harry, how's it coming?" Dean Thomas asked, carrying a few books in his long arms. Beside him, Seamus Finnigan was juggling his own batch of literature.

Harry shook his head. "Not so good. I think I know what I want to say, but I don't know how to say it."

"Tough luck, 'Arry," Seamus commiserated. "We're a table over from you, just had to run off and grab more research. Really can't get excited about it."

Ron saluted him. "You are not alone."

"Err, hello Hermione," Dean swiftly added, suddenly noticing that the book across the table wasn't just floating in midair, but was actually being held by a person.

"Hello Dean, Seamus. Shouldn't you all be getting back to work?" she hinted, flipping a page.

Dean and Seamus looked at Harry and Ron. Harry and Ron shook their heads, the look in their eyes reading: _Do not test her. Run while you can._

"Good idea, Hermione. Good luck, chaps. We'll be nearby if you need to… um… borrow some ink or something," Dean added. As he said this, Seamus slid apart two of his books to reveal the new issues of a favorite Quidditch magazine. Dean and Seamus winked. Harry and Ron nodded in approval. Even more hope yet. "Bye Hermione!" Seamus added as they made their getaway.

Harry couldn't help but smile, even as he scratched out a few more lines from his scroll. It was growing dangerously smaller than an acceptable paragraph.

Nevermind that. He was grateful for his friends.

"Harry, if you're not careful, you'll end up right where Ron currently is. With nothing but your signature." She flipped the page.

Ron glared at her, then took on what Harry termed the "Painful Thinking Ron" face that he affiliated with school work. His face was growing flushed and his teeth were slightly bared.

Several moments passed. Hermione flipped a page. Ron managed to scribble down the makings of an introduction and thesis. Harry tried to maintain his focus, to conjure some kind of intellectual articulation from the depths of his brain. Instead, he scratched out another word.

"Hermione, what's a good word for 'lights up' that doesn't sound so… pathetic?" Harry asked.

"Illuminates," Hermione suggested. Harry's face did just that.

"Excellent! Thanks!"

Ron took the moment. "Say Hermione, what's a good way to say 'This is an amazingly difficult sickness to have but there are ways to figure out what it is'?"

"Ron, not only is that a very roundabout statement, but I'm also not going to write your paper for you. Just keep at it, will you?"

Ron grumbled. He looked at Harry. "Favorite!" he accused. Harry smirked and shrugged.

"Oi', Harry," a female voice summoned. Alicia Spinnet stood before the table. A bolt of lightning had the insight to flash outside of the window and its brilliance bounced off of Alicia's menacing features. She was restraining a growing aggression. And she had purple spots on her face. Bright, unnatural, purple spots. "Ron. Hermione. Any of you seen those twins come through here?" she asked. Her tone was steady, low, yet highly dangerous.

"Um, not while we've been here," Ron told her. Alicia's gaze threw fire daggers in Ron's direction. He felt himself shrink in his seat.

"Now, you wouldn't be protecting those brothers of yours, hmm? Buying them some time?"

Ron shook his head, adamantly. "Haven't seen them today. I swear!"

Alicia's ponytail almost produced the sharp snap of a whip as her eyes snapped to Harry's face. Harry flinched.

"Promise, Alicia. We haven't seen either of them today," he reiterated.

Alicia's glare bounced from Ron to Harry and back to Ron. Sighing, she stood upright and straightened her uniform. "All right. Well. If you see them, do not let them know that I'm looking for them. I'd rather it be a surprise when I finally catch up to them. Now, if you excuse me." Alicia continued her search. The purple spots had started to change to green, but neither Ron nor Harry thought it best to tell her that. Better to let her find out herself.

Moments later, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell found their way to the table.

"Hi Harry," Katie said in between deep breaths.

"Ron, hey," said Angelina with a smile and a pant.

"Hello, Hermione," the girls then greeted the book.

"Looking for Alicia?" Harry asked.

"How'd you know? Wait, let me guess, she come through?" Katie asked. She looked at Angelina. "We just missed her!"

"How 'bout the twins?" Angelina asked, looking around the room.

"The twins haven't come by, not so long as we have been here. And honestly, you know them. How often do they come to the library? In my opinion, Alicia is wasting her time," Hermione spoke in her all-knowing tone. She flipped the page.

Harry shrugged. "She makes a good point."

Katie, who had been hovering over Harry's shoulder, pointed at a word. "You spelled that wrong." Harry stared at Ron, stupefied.

"Right. Well, best to catch Alicia. Thanks all, bye!" Angelina said before she and fellow Quidditch player Katie rushed off to find their color-mutating friend.

Harry scratched out the improperly-spelled word and slumped in his seat. Ron mimicked him.

Hermione put her book down for a moment, peering from one boy to another. She sighed heavily. "Did it even cross either one of your minds that Alicia has had a color-altering, pigmentation spell performed on her, the type of which follows a close-enough example to that which your scrolls are specifically supposed to discuss; and if you had inquired more about it, you could've gained valuable inspiration for your papers?"

Harry and Ron looked from her to each other to the direction in which the girls had just gone. But right as both of them stood up, ready to break into a hot pursuit, Hermione grabbed both of their shirt collars and tugged them back into their seats.

"No use running off now. Besides, I'm pretty sure that they'll be back this way." She picked her book back up.

"And how do you know that?" Ron asked.

A second later, Alicia reappeared, her arms linked with those of Angelina and Katie. The girls were doing their best to calm their raving friend, whose spots were now a charcoal grey with mini pink dots inside of them.

"Um! Alicia!" Harry shouted as the girls passed their table.

"WHAT," she snapped back.

"Oo, take cover," Dean said from the neighboring table. Seamus hid behind a book.

"Um…" Harry looked to Ron for support. Ron half-grinned, half-grimaced. Harry was alone. "Um, by any chance, do you know what… um… what happened to you?"

"What happened to me? HIS," as she pointed at Ron, "bloody brothers put something into my sandwich and now I look like a Technicolor case of small pox!"

"Well, yes. I mean, no! It's not that… bad." Even as he said this, the spots began to spin around each other, doing a do-see-do on Alicia's face. He spoke more quickly. "Um, look, what I meant to ask was whether you knew of its proper name? The thing that ails you. The cause for your… condition…"

"Which isn't bad at all!" Ron added.

Alicia brushed off her girlfriends' hold and exhaled sharply. Walking over to Harry's scroll, she took the quill from his hand and jotted something down. Returning to Angelina and Katie's sides, she allowed them to link arms with her once again and pull her out of the library.

"Um, cheers!" Harry shouted. He could feel happiness once again as he stared at a word he couldn't pronounce let alone understand. But it was a case study he could use in his parchment. Of course he wouldn't specify that it was something done by the Weasley twins; they were his friends after all, and confidentiality was always best. He really was grateful for his friends.

"Pssh, you gonna share?" Ron whispered, hoping to evade Hermione's ears. He failed. Her face appeared again, eyes fixated on him.

"Ronald! Harry had the gumption and initiative to ask Alicia about her condition…"

"Only because you had just suggested it!" he interrupted, angrily.

"…and that description is his just reward for his actions," she finished, ignoring his comment.

She returned to her book and flipped the page.

"Psst. What'll you give for it?" Harry mouthed. Ron thought for a moment, patting himself down for concealed goodies. Remembering something, he searched his bag to show an ambiguous bottle, one sixth of filled with an amber liquid. Harry knew what it was on sight and looked at Ron as though he was mad. "What're you doing, carrying that thing around with you?"

Ron shrugged. "Forgot to put it up from last night's game. So?"

Harry paused, then nodded. "All right. Slip it to me under the table and I'll slip you my parchment," he said. Ron quietly retrieved the bottle and carefully moved it under the table, looking around their environment for any prying eyes. Likewise, Harry slowly slid the scroll across the table. As their hands met one another, they took their traded objects quickly. Ron read the word and scribbled it on his own piece of paper. Harry slid the bottle out of sight. Pleased with themselves, the boys quietly shook each other's hands so as to not arouse the suspicion of Hermione.

"I don't hear any writing or any fidgeting," she suddenly warned, tapping the side of her book. Just as quickly as their hands had shaken, they fumbled to regain hold of their quills.

"What was that all about?" a new female voice spoke. Holding a single book in her arms, Ginny Weasley appeared from thin air, standing behind her brother's chair.

"What was what?" Ron asked, poking her in the side and motioning with his finger to keep quiet, pointing over toward Hermione. Ginny looked from Ron to Hermione and back to Ron as though he were demented.

"…Right... Hello, Harry," she said, smiling at the other boy at the table, whose cheeks had taken on a twinge of color.

"'Ello, Ginny," he managed.

"How're you, Hermione?" she then asked.

Hermione put the book down to smile at her friend. "The usual."

"Ah, playing warden to these here crooks?" she joked.

"It never fails to surprise me how adamant they are about not doing their school work. I swear, if they spent half the energy actually doing the work rather than doing everything possible to avoid it, they would finish their tasks with plenty of time to goof off, conscience-free!"

"Well, I think it's sweet that you haven't given up all utter hope on them yet. Especially on Ron. I think he was a lost cause from the moment of birth," Ginny responded, grabbing her brother's ear.

"Hey, watch it! Why can't you be a kind, dear, sweet little sister?" he asked, grabbing her around the waist and tickling her.

She tried to refrain from giggling out loud and managed to grab Ron's ear harder. "Because I'm a Weasley, that's why." Ron had a vice grip on what he knew to be her most ticklish spot on her side; Ginny had his ear in a stronghold, a very sensitive part of Ron's body. They glared at each other only to falter. It was a stalemate. They slowly let go of each other.

"You got lucky this time," Ginny commented, slowly backing away from Ron.

He glared. "Don't test me. Remember, I know where you live."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Anyways, have you seen Neville? I found out that we're working on a similar assignment and that he was looking for this book. I have no idea where he is now."

"Neville? He was by here earlier," Harry admitted.

"Last we saw of him, he went to go find the book from its proper place in the library," Hermione added.

"Really? Oh no, I had to get help to get this book down. It was up high in the enchanted literature section…" Ginny began to rush off only to pause next to Harry. "See you, Harry." Then she was off.

Harry smiled into the air. Ron glared at Harry. Hermione glared at Ron. Ron backed down and bit his lip, refocusing on the scroll. Hermione picked her book back up and flipped the page. A long, dull duration passed in which quills scratched on paper and throats were constantly cleared.

After a brief break, Harry cracked his knuckles. _Picking up his mighty quill, he raised it high into the air and began to jot down words that became fragments that became sentences. He scribbled with lightning speed, faster than the way his Seeker skills made him a blur on the field. He dotted "I"s and crossed "t"s without a second thought…_

"He paused to consider the next word to write down. Would it be a conjunction, an adverb, or a regular noun? How would he start the next paragraph? Inquiring library patrons want to know…"

"Um, Lee… Could you not comment on Harry's writing? It's a bit annoying," Hermione interrupted.

Harry, startled by Hermione's voice, turned around to be greeted with the grinning face of Lee Jordan, renowned Quidditch commentator. Harry wasn't sure which bothered him the most: the fact that he had thought that Lee's narration style was coming from within his own head or that he thought that Lee's voice made sense to be floating around in his head like his conscience. _Too many Quidditch practices, that's all_, he thought.

"Sorry Harry, bad habit. Anyways, being the adult to your younger status, I have been recruited to inform all fellow Gryffindors of the party that me and the twins are throwing in the Common Room today. It's in rebellion of the rainy day blues that everyone seems to have caught. I mean, come on, "he motioned around the library, "this place is way too crowded and stuffy. So wotcher say, be there?"

"Hopefully, Harry and Ron will find it more important to finish the scrolls that they put off until the last minute to do. Need I remind you of how heavy that grade will weigh?" Hermione, the party pooper, spoke.

Lee hissed, looking from one boy to the next. "Ooo, tough break, lads. Well, if you can, come on down." Lee then made his way to Dean and Sean's table, repeating the information.

"Oh come on, Hermione. We've been in here all day long and we haven't bolted once!" Ron commented.

"Only because I held you down," said Hermione.

"And we have been working," added Harry.

"And neither of you have anything close to thirteen and a half pages to show for it," she reminded behind her book, unable to see two red mops appear on either side of her, having loomed up from seemingly nowhere. "Face it, boys, we might be here all night long."

"Hopefully that won't be the case!" one mop said. Hermione jumped with a squeak, dropping her book. "After all, what good is a rainy day…"

"…With all work and no play?" finished the other mop. Fred and George then stood up, simultaneously, and gave genteel bows.

"Where have you two been? Alicia came through earlier. Looked ready to rip both your heads off!" Ron confided.

"Ron! Alicia said not to tell!" Hermione cried.

Ron shrugged. "Family is family," he mumbled.

George held his chin, contemplatively. "What color were her spots?"

"Purple, at first," said Harry.

"But then green," added Ron.

"And finally a dark grey, last time she passed through," Harry finished.

Fred and George looked at one another.

"Hmm, sounds about right," Fred concurred.

"Question, of highest importance… Were the spots…_dancing?" _asked George.

"I guess that's what you'd call it," answered Ron.

"Indeed. Good to know," said George.

"You know, it really isn't right to pull pranks on your friends. Alicia looked absolutely furious. And Angelina and Katie were doing their best to control her. If I were you two, I would not want to run into her anytime soon," Hermione threatened.

"Not to worry for you, then, cuz you aren't us," Fred said.

"Besides, she'll be thrilled to see us," said George.

"How do you reckon that?" Ron asked.

"Cuz we've got the antidote," both twins said together, producing a vial from nowhere.

"Very good. Well, you best be off to find her. That's my suggestion," Hermione said, trying her best to get Harry and Ron back on task.

"Great suggestion, Hermione," said George.

"Though it sounded more like a command," Fred said.

"Oi', Lee!" said George. Across the aisle came Lee Jordan alongside Luna Lovegood, both of them supporting a greenish Neville.

"Neville! Ginny just came by looking for you!" Hermione told him, though her speech slowed down at the sickish look of their classmate. "You all right, Neville?"

"He'll be all right. I found him on the ground eight aisles back and sixteen rows to the left. I think he was frightened by the books on magical creatures in the very enchanted section. They can be pretty aggressive," Luna spoke in her usual airy tone. She gently rubbed Neville's back.

"Who says reading isn't dangerous for the mind," Fred said.

"Or for other body parts as well," added George.

"If you'd like, I can go look for Ginny for you. It'd be no trouble, either. Besides, I've somehow managed to have someone steal my favorite pair of gnarfwarbler arm warmers, and I think I've almost accidentally happened upon them," said Luna as she seemingly floated away.

Lee leaned Neville against the table. "You all right, mate?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah. Just give me. A moment."

Fred and George gave Neville a big pat on the back, causing him to choke. "You'll be fine," they both said.

"When you're feeling better, come to Gryffindor Common Room," said George.

"We'll be bringing the house down today!" Fred said.

The twins and Lee then walked away to search for other housemates to tell. Hermione stood up and approached Neville, giving him a hand over to Dean and Seamus's table where there was an empty seat. "You really all right, Neville?" she asked.

Ron whispered to Harry, "So, we ARE going, right?"

Harry lightly hit Ron on the head. "Of COURSE. We just have to get through these papers first, yeah? Get something scribbled down to satisfy Madam Granger. We'll go to the party for a while, then just stay up all night and finish these things before class."

Ron hit Harry on the shoulder. "Great plan, Harry, brilliant." The boys grew deathly quiet as Hermione returned to her seat.

"Poor Neville," she said.

"Yes, poor Neville," mimicked Ron, face in his paper.

"Poor, poor Neville," added Harry.

Hermione glared at them both. "I hope you're making progress." Book up in face, she flipped the page.

A moment later, Ron passed a note to Harry. Harry took it. Harry stared at it. Harry turned it upside down. Harry looked at Ron as though he was daft and pointed at the paper. He mouthed: "Your writing is rubbish. What you want?"

Ron pointed at Neville and mouthed: Give him a swig. That might help.

Harry looked at Ron as though he was mad. Ron returned the gaze with confidence. Somewhat uncharacteristically, Harry shrugged, then turned to look at Hermione. Carefully, without removing his gaze from her, he waved to Dean and Seamus behind him. Seamus, sitting closest to Harry, leaned backward as Harry passed over his sack. "Let Neville have a swig. Make him feel better," he whispered as quietly to Seamus as possible.

Seamus looked down into the bag, saw the bottle, and then gave the a-ok sign. Ron watched on as Seamus passed Harry's bag to Dean who passed it to Neville and instructed him to have a gulp. One gulp led to an explosive cough. Hermione dropped her book just as Seamus swiveled in his seat and Harry jerked back to his paper.

"Neville?" she asked, concerned.

Neville shook his head. "I'm fine, Hermione, really," he said, clutching his chest. Harry and Ron exchanged looks, withholding the chuckles that wanted to escape. Feeling Hermione's death stare burn into their necks, they thought better of it.

Ginny took the moment to pass by their table again, though Ron wouldn't have realized it until he saw the way that Harry's face froze, half in glee, half in stupidity. Turning around, he saw his sister wave at Harry again, then turn her attention to the nearby table.

"Oh Neville! Thank goodness, I've been looking all over for you. I'm sorry, I was the one that had the book. I forgot to bring it back on time. I hope you didn't get hurt trying to find it."

Still trying to recover from the strong sip, Neville shook his head again. "I'm fine, really. Thank you, Ginny."

"No problem. Let me know if you need any help, okay?" she asked, about to walk away again. But just as she turned, she came face-to-face with Luna Lovegood. "Oh, Luna! Hi," she said uneasily at their close proximity.

"Hello, Ginny. I was just looking for you on Neville's behalf. But I see that you've found him. I'm very glad. But I still haven't found my arm warmers. They are hard to miss, what with the gnarfwarbler colors and all. I suppose I'll keep looking for them until the party," she said, floating away.

"…Right…" said Ginny again. "Anyways, feel better, Neville. Bye Harry," she said. Harry sort of nodded in response. Ron glared again. Hermione stepped on his foot and flipped the page. Ron grimaced, glared at Hermione the book, and glowered to himself as he tried to refocus on his scroll.

"She _is_ my sister after all," he mumbled. Harry sank into his chair.

"How's it coming along, Ron?" Hermione asked, placing her book down on the table and giving her redheaded table mate all of her attention. Harry grinned in appreciation. _Cheers for the distraction_, he thought. He really was grateful for his friends.

Ron grunted some sort of response and slid the scroll unceremoniously over to Hermione. She pulled a quill from her pack, ready to make corrections. Ron sat stiffly as Hermione proceeded to read his work. He took the opportunity to observe the rest of the library. It seemed as though everyone was trying desperately to stay on their own tasks, but you could tell by the raccoon eyes, the light snoring, the head-on-table thumps, and the overall comatose meanderings that the library residents were growing tired of working. At least, the Gryffindor students were barely maintaining consciousness. The Ravenclaw students, most of which were situated on an adjacent section of the library, were still going strong. Nothing less expected from Ravenclaw.

"Ron, I do believe that you are actually making progress," said Hermione, scratching out only a few items here and there. A lopsided grin grew on Ron's face.

"You can actually understand that?" Harry asked, impressed. Ron glared at him again and Harry quickly dropped his eyes to his own scroll. Apparently, Ron was still peeved about Harry's eyeing of Ginny.

"After helping Ron with his scrolls so many times, one learns how to translate his scratch," Hermione replied, her eyes never leaving the parchment. She handed it back. "It's actually not horrible."

"Gee, cheers," Ron told her. "And here I thought I was only a completely incompetent dimwit."

"Not completely incompetent. Somewhat, but not completely," Hermione retorted with a hint of a smile. Ron returned it.

"Such a sweetheart you are," he said.

Hermione returned to her book, though she couldn't throw the book in front of her face quick enough to hide the blush that had invaded her cheeks. "Want me to read, Harry?"

Harry sighed, then surrendered his work. "Might as well. Though be kind, Hermione. I don't think my spirit can take anything too… critical."

"It's tough love, Harry. I'm only trying to help you," she said. She instantly scratched a word off of his scroll. Harry groaned and hit his head on the table.

"I really need a pocket dictionary," he spoke into the wood.

"Well if it isn't Gryffindor scumba… students," a familiar and vile voice spoke. Ron, Hermione, and Harry all peered up from their respective pages and papers to behold Draco Malfoy. Ron and Harry instantly grew alert and ready to fight at the appearance of their schoolyard arch nemesis. Hermione, having noticed something odd about Draco, merely looked at him with curiosity.

"Malfoy," Harry and Ron growled through their bared teeth.

"Potter. Weasley. Granger. Fancy seeing you lot…" Draco grumbled, holding onto his stomach. His face was contorted in what seemed to be akin to pain. Hermione's curiosity rose. Neville, Dean, and Seamus shifted in their seats nearby, their attention focused on Draco as well. Neville, who had snuck an extra sip from the concealed bottle, was growing a little uncharacteristically brave (and pink in the cheeks) and seemed ready to jump out of his seat. Dean pushed him down. Seamus poked Harry in the back as a sign of recognition. His poke spoke: _We're behind you, Harry, if you all need us._

"Surprised to see you in here, Malfoy. Didn't think you used that brain for anything except being an arse," Ron responded.

Hermione whispered, "Language," though Ron ignored her.

Malfoy's face grew taut. "Well…" he began, "… I … do." And that was all he said.

Harry and Ron faltered. That wasn't much of a comeback.

Hermione grinned to herself. She decided to test her theory. "Well, Malfoy, let me guess what you've come to say, hmm? Perhaps to call me 'Mudblood' another fifty times? Say something about Ron's large family? Maybe call Harry another one of ten million insults involving his lineage or his scar?"

Malfoy's gaze hardened on her. "What if I have, Mud-" he began, but his face twisted into pain again as he held his stomach.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy, I didn't quite catch that. Can you speak louder? It'll give me better access to punch your teeth out," Harry seethed. Hermione held her hand out, encouraging him to stay seated.

The more that Draco stood in their presence, the more his skin began to turn green. He did not look well.

"Nevermind. It's not important," Malfoy mumbled, his fist gripping the side of the table's edge.

"Right. Well, Malfoy, how's this. We're busy right now trying to further our education. How about you go crawl back to your Slytherin snakes and try to do something with your lives. We can all catch up later when you aren't feeling so under the weather, hmm?" She smiled sweetly at him. "Hurry along now before you say something you'll really regret. I don't think you have the stomach for it."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. He was beginning to look very, very ill. "Yes. Well. I guess I'll be doing that. Potter. Weasley." He didn't acknowledge Hermione but, instead, covered his mouth with his hand and ran toward the library's exit. The trio looked at each other.

"Blimey. What d'you think that was about?" Ron asked.

"Dunno. He certainly wasn't himself. Usually slings more complete insults at us before running off, giggling like an idiot," Harry answered.

Hermione picked her book back up. "Wasn't it obvious? He grew more ill the longer he stayed to chat with us. I think someone gave him a potion of some sort. "

"Serves him right," said Ron.

"Too right," added Dean from the nearby table. "That was incredibly odd, that one."

"Glad he didn't do anything too stupid. He's in Gryffindor country now, think the whole lot would've stood up and taken him down 'fer you," added Seamus, pointing at all the other housemates in the vicinity.

An enchanted airplane took its cue to zoom through the air. It soared not with the grace of an eagle, but with the ferocity of a muggle fighter jet. It zigzagged over the tables until it found its destination, landing in front of Hermione.

"Who's that from?" asked Ron suspiciously.

Puzzled, Hermione unfolded the paper plane and read it. Her cheeks tinted a pinch and she smiled, looking up at Harry and Ron. Dean and Seamus were attentively as well at their table.

"Well?" asked Harry.

Hermione passed the note to Harry. He read it and couldn't help but grin as well. Harry gave it to Ron. Ron frowned initially.

_To Hermione (c/o: Potter and Ronniekins)_

_Ran into a certain prat who needs not be named. He started spouting some sludge at us, the usual trite routine. When he began to prattle on about Hermione, however, we decided to take action. After all, we do use our brilliant potion powers for the improvement of mankind (Alicia was an unknowing test subject, yes, but we will more than make it up to her). So here is our Saturday gift to you: a tongue-tied Malfoy who might turn a new leaf (considering any ill-will thoughts he has towards any of us Gryffindors will make him ill, quite literally). Enjoy him. And don't be too rough on him. I don't think anyone wants to see what he had for lunch. _

_Love,_

_Forge and Gred_

_P.S. Yes, Hermione, that means we like you. Anyone that keeps Ronniekins under control is family to us._

"Ronniekins?" Ron complained. "I hate it when they say that." Harry opened his mouth… and Ron pointed fiercely at him. "Don't even," he said. Harry chuckled and handed the note over to Dean and Sean.

"Your brothers are all right," Dean approved.

Ron smiled. "Family is family."

"I envy you, Ron. So many siblings," said Neville, slurring his words. "And don't worry, Hermione. I would've slugged Malfoy if he had said even one foul thing about you." Granted, the latter statement was spoken with intermittent gulps, ending with a hiccup. Seamus and Dean exchanged a look.

"Um, I think we're goin' to take Neville back to the dorms. I think he could use a little _lie down_," Seamus hinted, looking at Ron and Harry. The boys understood and repressed their laughter. "See you in a bit in the Common Room?" The boys tried to load up their books and directed a clumsy Neville toward the exit.

Hermione sighed, then closed her book. "Guess you lads have done all right today. Don't think we'll do any better, what with all of these distractions."

"You mean…" said Harry.

"We're… free?" Ron asked, his eyes twinkling.

Hermione sighed again and nodded. "Yes, you are free," she said. Ron and Harry stared at each other, then threw their fists into the air, emitting energetic shouts of joy. Somewhere unnervingly close, the librarian shushed loudly.

"Cheers, Hermione, cheers." Overjoyed, Ron stuffed his work into his bag. Hermione rolled her eyes and began to pack up her belongings, too.

"It's not like we don't appreciate what you do, Hermione, putting up with us," Harry added with a smile. "We just don't have the restraint that you do."

Hermione nodded. "I know."

"And don't have the brain power like you," added Ron, playfully tugging on one of her curls.

Hermione smiled and lightly smacked at his hand. "You could… with time." She paused. "Lots and lots of time."

"Wow, aren't you sassy today," Ron joked. "Think too much reading has an effect on the girl, what d'you think, mate?"

Harry shrugged. "I think it's time to party," he said simply to both of them.

Ron cracked his knuckles, walking away from the table. "Bout damn time!"

"Language, Ron," Harry and Hermione said, grinning at one another. Harry took Hermione's bag from her and threw it over his shoulder. Ron slowed down for his friends to catch up with them.

"So, 'Mione… think I can convince you to… I don't know… a game of Wizard's chess?"

Hermione stared at him as though he was demented. "I know you're joking, Ronald. You'd beat me in a second!"

Ron laughed, putting his arm around Hermione. She blushed. "Aww, Hermione, are you actually admitting that there's something I'm better at?"

Still blushing, Hermione poked him in the ribs. "Don't go feeding your ego now. I didn't say that I wouldn't play."

Harry threw his arm around Hermione's other shoulder. "Hermione, you are brave."

"Oh shut it. Both of you."

Harry smiled. He was very, very grateful for his friends.

-----

Moral Disclaimer: And no, I do not support under-aged drinking. But I do endorse group study sessions.

Thanks a lot for reading my story! Please review if you have the chance!


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